


There's spring in the air once again

by Helena_Dax



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: A bit of sci-fi, Freddie Lives, M/M, Romance, Soft Boys, Time Travel Fix-It, john deacon pov, some Hollywood stars make a cameo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 08:25:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20927144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helena_Dax/pseuds/Helena_Dax
Summary: An old John Deacon comes from the future with help for Freddie... and a second chance for his younger self.





	There's spring in the air once again

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is obviously just a product of my silly imagination so if you're in any way related to any of the people depicted in this story, I mean no offense.
> 
> If you're not, I hope you enjoy it!

Early 1991 

Freddie is going to die.

Lying alone on his bed of his room in the Montreaux Studios, John can’t help but cry one more night, devastated by a pain he hasn’t felt since he was eleven years old. Freddie is more than a band mate, more than a friend: he’s part of John, his shield and his protector, his teacher in so many ways. His mind keeps replaying the same image of Freddie trying –and failing- to stand up that evening and his expression when he realised that he wasn’t strong enough to do it, (such a simple thing, stand up), and every time hurts because Freddie is slowly withering away in front of him and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Nothing.

John hits his forehead with his fists, sick of his own helplessness, angry with himself. He’s smart, he has millions: why can’t he find a fucking solution? Doctors all around the world are looking for a cure, but John fears Freddie won’t last enough. His sweet, beautiful Freddie… Oh, God, if he could travel back in time, he would do things differently. He would allow himself to love Freddie the way Freddie deserved, he would cherish every laugh, every moment of talented insanity.

A weird wet sound catches his attention and before his eyes, a man appears out of thin air. In his bedroom. John screams and turns on the light quickly, heart beating so fast that it seems about to explode.

“Who are you?”

The stranger is really old, more than ninety, probably, with a bald head, a bit of a hump between his shoulders and a grumpy expression mixed with elation. “Fuck, I did it!” he says, looking at John with an open mouth. It’s somewhat familiar, but John can’t remember where or when he has seen that old man before.

“W-who are you?” John insists, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his pyjama. “What are you doing here?”

The old man blinks and for a moment, he seems to be a bit dizzy, but he recovers quickly. “We don’t have much time. Pay attention now.” John realises that there is a metallic container next to the man’s feet; when the stranger opens it, John sees a bit of cold smoke coming out and several bottles with different pills inside. “I know this is difficult to believe, John, but I’m from the future and I’m here to save Freddie with your help, understood?”

“What?” His fear and confusion is replaced with hot anger at the sick joke, but the man coughs, indifferent to John’s growl.

“The human body isn’t prepared to travel through time so this is going to kill me, but I’m almost one-hundred so who cares, hum? Now listen: he has to stop taking his normal medication for three days, okay? Then, he has to start taking these red pills, three a day, for a month. It will kill the virus. Now, these white pills? One every day for a week.” He coughs again and it sounds like he’s about to throw up a lung or two. “The roll of bandage and this cream are for his foot; no need to wait three days for that. Spread the cream, all of it, and cover his foot with the bandage. Let it work for four or five days: don’t wash it and don’t take the bandage off until then. You’ll know it’s done because his foot will stop itching. Are we clear?”

“W-what?”

“This isn’t a joke, damn it!” There are sudden tears in his greenish eyes. “You have to save him! Are we clear or not?”

“Y-yes.”

“So the white pills?”

John answers him, too stunned now. He wants to believe, of course he wants, but there’s a part of him that thinks that he might have gone crazy, that maybe the acid he took five years ago is playing again with his mind.

“Is this for real?”

The man closes his eyes, nodding tiredly. “Tell Freddie… that I can’t save anyone else, but… but Jim will live long enough to get the drugs he needs… to fight the illness.”

Suddenly his legs seem to betray him because he falls slowly to the ground. John cries in alarm and goes quickly to him. “Sir! Are you okay?”

His eyelids flutter. “It’s fine… Don’t worry about me… Just save him. Save him and take care of him… And tell Brian… tell Brian that… that he helped me with the maths.” John finds himself crying too: he can accept who the old and fragile man he’s holding in his arms is. “You’ve got… another opportunity, John… Please…”

The man closes his eyes again and disappears.

* * *

John doesn’t react for a long time.

* * *

The sun isn’t up yet, but John is already at Freddie’s flat, pressing the doorbell insistently.

It’s Phoebe who opens the door, half-sleepy and worried.

“John? Are you okay?”

“I know it’s terribly early, but I need to speak with Freddie.” Phoebe hesitates, because it’s obviously not a good time, but he is a man who doesn’t like to make that kind of decisions for Freddie. John, who knows that, goes around him and walks towards Freddie’s bedroom, full of determination because it isn’t a joke, and it isn’t a secondary effect of the acid trip in Bali, which means he can save Freddie’s life. And if he can do that, nothing in the world is going to stop him.

John knocks softly at the door, pretty sure that Freddie’s awake after the noise he’s made with the doorbell. “Freddie, it’s me, John. I need to talk to you.”

“John? Come in.” He opens the door and finds a not-so-pleased Freddie who looks at him from his bed. Jim isn’t with him and John remembers that the Irish man has gone to his hometown for a family wedding. “What the fuck, darling.”

His brown eyes are sunken, his short beard covers the thin skin of his pale, greyish cheeks and he looks ten years older than he actually is. Freddie’s getting worse day after day and John has to wonder if these drugs from the future can really bring him back from death.

“Freddie… Something… something unbelievable has happened.” He’s nervous with the possibility that Freddie won’t believe him and will tell him to fuck off, so his explanation is mumbled and disorganised, but when Freddie sees the container and the medicines, his expression becomes awed, grateful, and his eyes are full of tears.

“What are you saying, John?” he exclaims, like he’s fighting against his own wild hopes.

“It’s true, Freddie, I swear. I swear on my children.” They both know how much those words mean. “You have to try it! Please, please, I can’t lose you, not when there’s a chance… Please”

“Oh, God… John…” In spite of the tears rolling down his cheeks, he smiles, beaming in wonder._ “John…” _

“I know.”

He nods eagerly. “Call Phoebe, please.”

* * *

They don’t even think of keeping this secret from Roger and Brian. Phoebe calls them later, at a reasonable hour, and they come to Freddie’s flat, anxious to know about the good news Phoebe has mentioned. It’s John who explains everything to them, still in Freddie’s bedroom and if Brian has serious doubts about the story, he forgets about them the moment he sees the futuristic metallic container, which looks like nothing they have ever seen before. He becomes speechless, but Roger has never had that problem.

“Are you telling me that… that you built a fucking time machine in the future and travelled back in time to… to save Freddie?”

Freddie chuckles weakly from the bed. “It’s so over the top…”

“Holy shit, Deaks!” Roger laughs and hugs him, but John isn’t surprised when the four of them end up crying in relief.

* * *

The first three days are hard. Freddie grows visibly weaker and Jim isn’t too happy when he comes back and learns that Freddie has stopped taking his medicines. They tell him the truth too, because there isn’t any other way to explain what is happening, but it isn’t an easy story to believe: if Jim eventually does it is because Freddie basically forces him to, completely sure that the new medicines will work. Even John is impressed by Freddie’s confidence, but when he brings it up the singer smiles warmly.

“Don’t be afraid now, John. You’ve already done the most difficult thing.”

When Freddie starts taking the pills from the future, they stay with him in the flat, anxious to see the miracle with their own eyes. The first day, nothing happens: it’s still too soon, probably. Freddie’s asleep most of the time. During the second day, Freddie’s a bit stronger and he’s able to eat some soup: they can also see that his foot is definitively healing, growing healthy tissue in a way that John simply can’t understand. By the third day he’s better than he’s been in weeks and he eats some toasts and apple cream and more soup. In the afternoon, he visits the studio again and sings some bits. When the first week finishes, he’s put at least ten pounds, all his skin lesions are disappearing and his foot looks like new. His smile is dazzling.

“I still can’t believe this is happening” Brian whispers, his hazel eyes brimming with tears of joy and wonder. “Time travel, this cure… I didn’t know science could feel like a miracle.”

He looks younger, alive, and John realises that he hasn’t seen Brian so happy since the seventies, before Munich, Hot Space and the cocaine. John has to admit he hasn’t helped, exactly. He can deal quite well with Roger’s temper tantrums and most of the time, he finds Freddie’s antics simply hilarious, but there’s something about Brian’s whiny stubbornness that makes him want to throttle their guitarist quite often. And yet… Brian helped with the maths. As long as John is concerned, from now on Brian can make five minute guitar solos in every Queen song, if that’s what he wants.

“Like a second chance, hum?”

Brian smiles softly, knowingly. “I’d like that.”

To anyone’s surprise, by the end of the second week, when he can dance all around the house and he’s eating like a man who has been starving for years, a happy Freddie announces that they should start thinking ideas for their new video, _The Show Must Go On_.

It’s the most beautiful thing John has even seen.

* * *

It serves them right, John thinks, looking at the confused faces of the journalists during the press conference to announce the new album,_ Innuendo_. They were so sure of themselves, gossiping about Freddie’s life, speculating in the most awful and disrespectful way… Now they can’t take their eyes from Freddie, who is obviously healthy, full of life and acting as if there were nothing strange about his recovery. Of course all the journalists must be thinking that they were wrong about the AIDS, because no one can come back to that, supposedly.

Fuck them.

But they, the band, have learned their lesson too. (Roger says they have become “total saps”). They know what’s important and how much they really mean to each other. The petty fights that used to drive John crazy don’t come back with Freddie’s recovery. Oh, they still argue about everything because they can’t change that much without a brain injury or something like that, but the arguments don’t become personal and the things never get too ugly. They’re friends first. No, more than that: family. Bonded by more than twenty years of dreams, a terrifying brush with death and a wonderful and secret miracle.

And they tour again. This time, John doesn’t complain, not even once.

* * *

The hotel has amazing views to the Pacific Ocean. John has always loved the sound of the waves; it soothes him with its rhythmic indifference. From the balcony of Freddie’s presidential suite he can also hear the music, the laughs and the familiar voices he’s abandoned for a while. It’s a small party, though: it’s one of the changes. Only them and their people. Since they were hired to write a soundtrack for Disney’s new film, _The Lion King_, Hollywood is trying to impress them with lavish parties, but frankly, nothing comes close to Queen’s wildest nights and they have only attended a couple of them to be polite and do some PR.

They are too close to Los Angeles to enjoy the kind of breathtaking night sky John has seen in other corners of the world, but it’s pretty enough, and the warm breeze smells of sea. John closes his eyes, breathing deeply, focusing on the waves crashing onto the shore. After a minute or two, he hears the door of the balcony opening.

“Are you okay, John?” Freddie’s gentle voice makes John smile.

“Sure.” Freddie’s wearing jeans and a Hawaiian shirt. His dark hair curls a bit under his ears and John likes the way it frames his face and underlines his stunning cheekbones. “Just needed a bit of fresh air.”

“Do you prefer to be alone?” he asks, always considerate.

_You’re part of my alone,_ John thinks, but that’s the kind of thing he can’t say because he’s married and Freddie has Jim, so he just shakes his head and makes a gesture with his hand, inviting Freddie to join him. Freddie stands at his side, quiet, looking at the dark ocean: no words are needed between them. The wind ruffles his hair: there’s something ethereal, painfully beautiful about him and John is aware of how much he would love to kiss Freddie’s full lips. It isn’t a new thought, though, so John stores it away with some faint regret.

Freddie speaks, his eyes set somewhere far away. “I want to create a foundation against AIDS in Joe’s honour. Would you help me to talk with Miami?”

They’re like opposite sides when it comes to money, he and Freddie, but at some point, John ended up understanding and even respecting Freddie’s ways: the singer is the most generous person he has ever met, always happy to share and help. Of the four of them, Freddie’s the one who gives more money to charities and he does it so quietly that John only knows about it because he’s in charge of the band finances.

“Of course.”

“I’m not better than him” he whispers, with sorrow. “I didn’t deserve a cure more than the others.”

Shocked, John opens his mouth to reply, but words fail him as his brain seems to freeze, going to override. He squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his forehead, trying to calm the sudden storm inside his head.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that kind of decision” he manages to say then. “You know that. If you had died I would have become a shadow of myself.”

Freddie closes his eyes. “Oh, John…” He rests his head on John’s shoulder and John puts his arm around Freddie’s thin waist, enjoying the warmth of his body, the familiar scent of his cologne and his skin. They stay like that, comforting each other, until Jim comes looking for Freddie.

* * *

They do a last world tour. Freddie’s forty-seven and he says that he can’t perform like he used to, and he wants to quit while he’s still on the top. It doesn’t mean Queen is over, though. They’re still working with Disney: the executives were more than pleased with their work for _The Lion King_ and now they’re creating the soundtrack for their film _Aladdin_. And Freddie and Brian are playing with the idea of a musical based on the band’s songs. John is also in contact with some amazing sound technicians who work in the film industry and he really wouldn’t mind to explore new possibilities in that area. It’s a new period of their life, one that John enjoys very much, especially because most of the time he doesn’t have to be in the spotlight or make stupid small talk. Sadly, Veronica isn’t too happy about that: she thought he would retire for good. As usual, John feels guilty and torn, but how could he resist Freddie’s call? He’s never been able to do it, always a Bilbo Baggins to Freddie’s Gandalf.

Brian got divorced some years ago and Roger broke up with his partner Dominique: if John didn’t follow the same path back in the day it’s only because his wife takes her vows intensely seriously and she’s been willing to forgive him a lot of things, probably more than he deserves. But he knows that it still may happen if she keeps being so unhappy about his decisions. Just the idea makes John shudder: he might not love her romantically anymore, but he needs her and trusts her, which is more than he can say about the ambitious and beautiful twenty-something girls he sees hunting for prey in every party, in every fancy restaurant.

Some of those girls are in the after-party for the premiere for _The Lion King_, which unlike the party, isn’t kid-friendly at all. Ronnie has stayed at home –she hates those parties even more than he does- and John, quite uncomfortable, walks around with Dan, his PA, sipping a glass of excellent champagne and trying to avoid conversations with strangers. He never gets away from Freddie: seeing him makes him feel a bit less nervous in these situations. Does it make Freddie his security blanket? He chuckles at the idea.

From time to time, Freddie also checks on him and at some point, John even joins his small court of Hollywood stars charmed by his unfailing charisma. Freddie greets him with a blinding smile. “Oh, here’s my lovely John. Do you want another drink, darling?”

“No, thanks, I’m fine.”

“I was telling Tom and the others about the time that a bat attacked us in the middle of a show, do you remember? Brian screeched so loud when he felt it on his head! And Ratty started to chase it around the stage, trying to hit it with a broom while we kept playing. God, I could barely sing, I was laughing so much!”

Everybody is laughing now too, including John, who remembers that moment very well. Freddie tells another silly story like that and then Tom –Tom Hanks-, starts talking about something that happened to him while he was shooting _A League Of Their Own_ with Madonna and after that, Whoppi, as in Whoopi Goldberg, makes Freddie laugh so much that he almost chokes on his vodka and Phoebe starts patting his back hurriedly. Little by little, John starts feeling comfortable surrounded by all those famous actors. It helps, of course, the way Freddie smiles at him and includes him easily in the conversation.

His shield, his protector.

John is feeling pleasantly buzzed when he leaves with Dan. It’s been a good night, he thinks, until he comes across Freddie and Jim, who are having a row near the exit.

“Having to share you with Mary is enough!” Jim says. “I don’t want to share you with John too!”

John gasps, shocked, and it’s then when Freddie sees he’s there and he’s heard it. Blushing madly, he looks at his feet and John, feeling his heart going crazy, leaves as quickly as he can.

What the hell?

* * *

Some days later he arrives to the studio and he finds Brian and Roger talking in whispers to each other. The moment they see him, they call him, apparently eager to include him in their conversation.

“Hey, Deaks, hi, have you spoken with Freddie?”

“Not since the premiere. Why?”

“Don’t you know?” Brian says, frowning a bit. “He and Jim have broken up for good.”

“What?” he says in shock.

“Jim called yesterday to say good-bye” Roger explains. “He talked to Brian too. Didn’t he call you?”

John shakes his head, trying to avoid their gaze without being too obvious about it. He hasn’t stopped thinking about Jim’s words at the party, wondering what he meant with that, exactly. Now he knows. And they have broken up because of him. He squeezes his eyes, overwhelmed by the guilt, the concern and the unbearable yearning.

“Is Freddie okay?” he says eventually.

Roger doesn’t look pleased. “His mobile phone is off. I’ve talked with Phoebe and he says Freddie’s fine, but you know him.”

Afraid of giving something away, John covers his face with his hands.

“Deaks?” Brian says, touching his arm. John wants to say something, anything, but he can’t find the right words. He can see Freddie going wild again, with his three-day parties, a new string of lovers, and if it isn’t AIDS, this time it will be an overdose or a fucking heart attack and he will lose Freddie for real and _God_, John will go insane if he has to go through the agony of facing Freddie’s death again.

“I’m worried too” Brian admits. “I don’t want to intrude in his personal life, but he helped me when I was going through my divorce. He shouldn’t… He shouldn’t feel he can’t talk to us about these things, am I making sense?” John hears Roger humming in agreement. “I just want him to know that we’re here for him, if he needs us.”

“I’ll go to his house tomorrow” Roger says.

John reacts quickly. “No, I’ll do it.” He needs to talk to Freddie first; he needs to understand what is really going on before Brian and Roger do.

“You sure?”

Trying to look determined, John nods. This time, it’s his responsabilty.

* * *

The following morning, Rebeca, known as Sam Johnson until he became Freddie’s new assistant, tells him that Freddie is at Liza’s. Usually, John would be absolutely unable to go unannounced to the house of a Hollywood diva, but Liza Minnelli is someone he has known for a while and he is sick worried about Freddie and very nervous, so he makes a decision and drives to Liza’s house.

The thing is, despite their closeness and the twenty-five years they’ve been working and travelling around the globe together, they aren’t very good at talking about their private life to each other. In their early days, John could have arrived to the studio with a song called _“I want to kill myself”_ and the other three would have only made comments about lyrics and melodies. (They wouldn’t have left him out of their sight after that, but that is another story.) So the fact that John is determined to talk to Freddie about Jim is a big deal, but John just can’t stand the idea of Freddie thinking that they don’t care, that he can’t talk to them, to him.

He needs a moment to gather enough courage to press the button of the intercom: some part of his mind is convinced that Liza won’t even recognize his name and will leave him standing in front of her door like a fool. Of course, that isn’t what happens. John’s worst predictions seldom come true. First he talks to an assistant and some seconds later, he hears the automatic door open. When the car arrives to the house, Freddie’s already waiting for him at the door, clearly surprised. He looks fine, John thinks, just a bit less sunny than usual.

“John… Why are you here? Is anything wrong?”

“No, I just… I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He doesn’t miss the way Freddie tenses up slightly and he adds, awkwardly. “I’m just worried. I’ve heard about Jim.”

“Oh.” Freddie looks at his feet, clad in bright flip-flops. “Don’t be ridiculous, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Freddie…” he complains. “Look, I’m sorry. And if I’ve done something that…” He stops, too guilty and uncomfortable to finish the sentence.

Freddie looks up then and whatever he sees in John’s face, it makes him soften his expression and become less guarded. “Oh, come with me, John. Let’s go for a walk.”

The house is surrounded by some gardens with palm trees and bushes full of big and colourful flowers, a swimming-pool, a lovely gazebo painted in white and pink. Freddie seems to feel at home there, although his own houses are way more sophisticated.

“I know you heard what Jim said the other day, at the party, but don’t make a fuss over it, okay? I’m not… You’ve always been dear to me, you know that.”

“I love you too, Freddie” he says earnestly.

Freddie smiles at him sweetly and he leans a bit on John, resting his head on John’s shoulder. Their close contact brings memories of intimacy and peace: Freddie is usually the one who calms him down when he has got anxiety attacks.

“Ah, baby doll, if love was enough…. But Jim was wrong, you know? I’m not expecting anything nor hoping for anything. I may be a silly old cow, but I still have some common sense. I mean, can you imagine? I’d drive you crazy inviting people over every day and being loud and so high-maintenance.”

John has to close his eyes for a moment. He has allowed himself to daydream about it, sometimes, but they have never spoken about it out loud.

“It’s because I’m too conventional.” His voice is a bit shaky and he tries to sound less affected. “You’d get bored in less than a week.”

Freddie chuckles, shaking his head. “No… But think about it: at my side, you could never go unnoticed. The press would start to talk about you and… I’d hate to do that to you.”

“I’d be always complaining about how much money you spend.”

Freddie rolls his eyes, clearly amused, but then his face becomes more serious. “I’ve never wanted you to experience all the… ugliness: the insults, the discrimination, the self-hate. I still don’t want to.”

John’s heart breaks at the unfairness of that. “I would tell them to fuck off, now. You’re one thousand times better than all those disgusting pricks and I’m not even talking about your craft, just you, the way you are.”

Freddie smiles shyly, mumbling a soft “thank you”. Then he looks at John and his voice sounds stronger, yet equally soft. “I would never find you boring, John. Never have, never will.”

He’s so damn sweet and warm… John has lost the count of the times he has drawn strength from Freddie’s eyes. Almost without thinking, he raises his arm and strokes tenderly Freddie’s cheek. “I think I’d enjoy pampering you.”

A tiny gasp leaves Freddie’s lips. “T-to be absolutely honest, I don’t like partying as much as I used to.”

John looks at Freddie’s mouth. His throat feels dry, his heart is beating fast. “You’re the most generous man I’ve ever met. I’d never try to change that. It’s one of the things that make you so special.”

“John” Freddie whispers, sounding breathless. John knows it’s possibly a very bad idea, but he wants Freddie so badly that he can’t hold back anymore and closing his eyes, he leans and kisses him on the lips. It’s meant to be sweet, innocent, like every other kiss they have shared over the years, but John licks Freddie’s bottom lip and Freddie opens his mouth, pressing his body eagerly against John’s. A shudder of pleasure makes him moan: it’s almost too much –too much love, too much desire. But Freddie pushes him firmly with a choked “no” and when John opens his eyes again, he sees Freddie holding his tears.

“You’ll always be my precious baby, John, but you’re married. And you’ve got four wonderful kids. I’m just... I’m not worthy.”

“Freddie…”

“I’ll be fine, love, I promise. Mary’s coming and I’ll get over it. But you need to leave now, okay?”

Freddie means it and John knows it. So he leaves.

* * *

Things don’t change between them after that. Why would they? They have always known what they feel for each other. They see each other in the studio, where neither of them would dream of talking about anything so private unless it was said through a song. Freddie is a bit more serious than usual, but he doesn’t lash out at people and as far as John can tell, he doesn’t go wild during the nights either, although it might be because Mary and her sons are spending the rest of the summer with him.

Then it comes John’s forty-third birthday and as per Queen tradition, he throws a party with a huge and extravagant cake, this time shaped like a Balinese temple. Between friends and family, there are around fifty people in his house: not much, when compared with the others’ birthday parties, but enough to make him feel a bit overwhelmed (nothing that a couple of glasses of champagne can’t fix). Kids are playing in the swimming-pool, adults are talking and laughing and John watches Freddie, who is chatting pleasantly with Anita while holding a drink: his mood seems to have improved and that’s really the best present Freddie could give him.

“I wouldn’t want to live here forever” he is saying to her, “but we can’t leave until we win an Oscar, obviously.”

John snorts, surprised. Of course. Of course Freddie wants Queen to win an Oscar for their soundtrack. And the most amazing thing is that they have huge chances to get one with _The Lion King._ Oh, damn, he’s going to have to go to an Oscar ceremony next year, isn’t he? But the panic doesn’t last too much –it’s still too soon for that-, and John chuckles to himself because that’s the kind of unbelievable things that happen when you work with Freddie. And as much as sometimes it’s terrible for John’s social anxiety, God knows he would miss that wonderful craziness in his life.

He would miss Freddie so much that he would be able to find out how to travel back in time and save him.

John looks at him, astonished by his own blindness. What the _fuck_ is he doing? What else does he need to understand and accept that Freddie is the love of his life? Why is he _wasting_ the miracle his older self managed to do? All the excuses he has been giving himself over the years look suddenly like simple cowardice. It wouldn’t be easy, but the best things rarely are and John has to believe that after the initial shock, his kids would end up understanding him. Who cares about anything else?

The longing is sweet and painful. He can have Freddie, if he takes the risk. He can live in Freddie’s magic kingdom, if he’s brave enough

He just needs to make a decision.

* * *

It’s late the next time that John goes to Freddie’s house. He knows that his eyes are red and puffy and his stomach is twisting in a tight knot, but he presses the doorbell without hesitation because there’s no going back now.

“It’s John, John Deacon” he says when Phoebe answers. And just so they know that it’s some sort of emergency, he adds: “I… I might need a place to crash tonight.”

He pushes the automatic door open and walks towards the house, crossing the well-tended garden, lit by some fairy lights and a couple of Victorian-like lamp posts. Beauty all around. Freddie appears in the door with Phoebe and judging by his colourful shirt, his shorts and his bare feet, he isn’t entertaining guests other than Mary and her kids.

“Darling… What happened?”

John waits until he’s in front of Freddie.

“Ronnie and the kids are going back to London after the summer holidays. We’re getting a divorce.”

Phoebe gasps in surprise, but John only has eyes for Freddie because nothing else matters right now. “John” he says, sounding worried.

“I had to, Freddie. I couldn’t be married to her anymore, no matter what happens next.”

Freddie snaps out of his astonishment and hugs him tight, almost desperately and it feels so good, so damn good, like their bodies were made for each other. “Oh, John, John… Are you sure this is what you want, love of my life?”

“More than anything. You’re magic to me, Freddie.” He strokes Freddie’s soft hair, kisses his cheek. “You’re my light, you know.”

This time, the tears in Freddie’s eyes are of happiness and their kiss melts John’s anxiety away. Later, John’s arms are around Freddie’s waist, their foreheads are touching and Freddie’s voice is the sweetest thing.

“Welcome home, John.”

**The end**


End file.
